CROC
by LoganNOVELZ101
Summary: A Fan-Made story not about Batman, but about the origin of Killer Croc, one of my favorite batman villains of all time, this story is not entirely based upon the comics I will be including some of my own material to keep the plot from falling apart, so far I have 6 chapters planned so stay tuned.
1. Chapter 1 Changes

CROC

**CHAPTER 1 "CHANGES"**

You know…I wasn't always the bad guy. I tried being good once, I really did…I tried being a hero. I use to idol the so called superheroes from comic books but now I realize there all the same. They are selfish stuck up fools that never know when to quit, always coming to the conclusion the good guy and I'm the villain just because of my look. It's not like I have a tattoo on my arm and a scar running down my eye or something, it's a disease…god the one person to get the rarest disease on earth and it's me, makes me laugh to tell the truth. Atavism it's called…the scientists at S.T.A.R LABS say it's a supernatural disease that attacks red blood cells and people with blood type O. Guess who has blood type O. The disease imprinted me with what seemed reptilian looks…but that's not all I got…I also got the abilities.

I wasn't always like this, I use to be human you know…like the rest of you. Let me start from day 1…I was let's say 15 or 16 so or so and of course it was like any other day. Picture this, the kind of town you see in the comics or in a cop show, the kind with spray painted graphite all over the place, trash and filth littered along the sidewalks, yeah you guessed it, that was the town I lived in, old Gotham. Replaced by of course new Gotham, but what more could you expect from this god awful city. I was walking down the road headed home after school like I do each weekday after 4:00 PM. Before I was, well, what I am now, I had a head full of the darkest black hair you could ever see, covered my eyes in an emo kind of way. Of course I was wearing the best clothes we could afford, a freaking black sweatshirt and my jeans that were ripped in a skateboarding accident. I kicked aside a piece of litter, a crushed coca cola can. Then, like always, the 3 freaking punks that always bug me for cash stopped me in my tracks. "Where ya going in such a rush Waylon?" the jerk taunted, his nose ring shining in reflection in the sun. "Not today", I replied trying my best to sound like I was in control, I guess it didn't work, "Whoah calm down Jones I ain't getting up in your grill am I", nose ring said in a soft chuckle. He started walk up to me and I backed up, I dealt with these guys before and they did know how to give a big beating. "You scared?" the punk laughs at his sly remark, "Hey guys Waylon's scared", he shoved me…that's when it happened. My insides burned like I was in hell and my skin felt as cold as the arctic and that's when I let the most horrifying scream you could ever hear that slowly turned into a monstrous roar. "OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING", was the last thing that rang through my ears, because before I knew what happened, I didn't have any ears. They ran in fear of I'd become, at the time I didn't know until I saw my hands, the talons that formed from my fingertips were sharpened to a point gleaming in the sunlight, almost sliver. "Come back", I almost jumped in fear from the sound of my own voice, now deep and raspy in a mixed sort of way. I had to get home so I broke into a run worried it may be the last time my legs may ever move.


	2. Chapter 2 Crimes and Authority

CROC

**CHAPTER 2 "CRIMES AND AUTHORITY"**

As my feet slammed down into the pavement with each and every movement my body made, ever fiber, was burning and fusing ready to explode, I was moving faster than I ever did, despite my new weight and size I was faster than the vehicle next to me. I rounded the corner almost with the simplest ease and came up on our house, the white fence still in tack and chipped away as usual, it needed to be painted, I swear to god if you saw it you'd actually offer to paint it, I didn't bother unlatching it, I leaped over it, let me explain that, I litterly LEAPED underline LEAPED over the fence, cleared the whole thing. The half hinged, half unhinged screen door came off when I yanked open, at that moment I promised myself to pay grandma back, yes I live with my granny. When I was 5 my parents "went to a special place", that's what granny told me back then…we never talk about it but I know where they really are now, they died, there in hell, maybe heaven, I hope so, for their sake. I walked through the small doorway almost hitting the ceiling with my head, our house had a good height but despite that, it was actually really small, there she was as I walked through the door opening I saw granny with her back turned to me watching her old 1990's television set on her old dusty couch. She made it an effort not to look in my direction, she hadn't liked me ever since I grew up, her exact words, "You were cute when you were a baby now look at you", as if the way a kid thinks of their pet cat or dog, cute as kitten or pup…now hideous and useless. She didn't say anything so I did, she probably would've had a heart attack if it hadn't been for the voice, "Granny", was all I could sputter out, it was the only possible word to say hello with. "Waylon I'm watching my show what do you want", as she spun around on her couch her eyes widened so big it was like staring into basketballs, her mouth dropped like a cartoon and she let out the loudest scream ever. "GRANNY STOP", came out of my lips, well, my sharp toothed jaw, you could see the inside of my mouth almost, and I would've puked if it hadn't been my new face. The tone of my voice didn't help at all, if I moved toward her she would've probably screamed louder I only had one thing to do. "IT'S ME WAYLON STOP GRANNY STOP", and she did. After big deep breathes and hesitation she half whispered half whimpered, "Waylon". I made a gesture instead of speaking worried my voice would scare her even more, I sounded like a monster, no doubt. "YOU FREAK", she let out what sounded almost like an evil wicked laugh, "LIZARD BOY", and the laugh continued on and on as he cackle carried with it, I almost cried but instead I felt anger boil up inside me. I wanted to rip her freaking head off I really did, I wanted to make her suffer and actually…the disturbing part was…I wanted to **EAT **her. To avoid doing any of these things I did what I do most when I get mad, I punched the wall, do to my new strength and size a huge gaping watermelon sized hole appeared once my fist collided. She screamed. This made my anger fume even more, I felt like I was going to explode. Then "it" kicked in, my natural instinct, like a crocodile would do, I took the hardest, biggest, widest, goriest bite out her side. Blood splattered onto the walls, the couch, the television set, and most of all, my lips, it tasted wonderful, but I felt awful. I decided then and there I would run I had to, what would you do, you just bit your grandmother's side off, she's dead, no doubt about it. I thought of calling the police but I figured the screaming, the roaring and the most obvious part, a giant green scaled monster coming from one house in a scumbag neighborhood was enough to get the authorities here. So I ran.


End file.
